AU: A Few Days Late
Log Title: A Few Days Late Characters: Blast Off, Huffer, AU-Megatron Location: The Cybex Forge Date: The End of the War TP: Apocalypse Universe TP Summary: The last remaining Combaticon returns to Cybertron, but hasn't realized why... Category:Apocalypse World TP Category:The End of the War Category:Logs ''As logged by '' Imager on 06-22-2018 Eons have passed since the war for Cybertron had ended. It was exactly how Optimus had seen coming. The Cybertronians had fought themselves to death. With energon as scarce as it was during the Great Shutdown, factional fighting had just dwindled down to occasional skirmishes. Wounds were deadly, there was so little left to fix them. And then it happened. It was a small pitched battle with several mechs desperately trying not to die...and then someone just got up out of their foxhole. They threw down their firearm. And just like that the war ended. The others followed suit. It was over...finished. The factions dissolved overnight as the scant handful of Cybertronians just scattered. Some, like the great Optimus Prime, chose a life of hermitude, burdened by guilt of the war he could not end. Others...like Megatron, retreated further into their own madness. And then there are those who fled. The planet was duller, and redder, since Blast Off had last viewed it. Even from here, it was apparent that the Great Rust Dunes have expanded significantly. It was quiet. As quiet as the galaxy as large..... It's been a long time, indeed. A long time since that fateful day when the Combaticons were engaged in a desperate, last-chance ploy to gain some critical resources. The day that Onslaught died. There was a massive battle, the Combaticons slew many, but in the end Blast Off was too far away, up in the air, when he looked down and saw an Autobot kill his leader in a massive explosion. A combination of good strategy and sheer good luck and Onslaught, the great and mighty Onslaught who had always had Blast Off's total loyalty.... had died. Blast Off blew up the Autobot shortly after in a rage, raining down an orbital bombardment that laid waste to the scene. Of course, he searched through the rubble of the first explosion tirelessly, but everything seemed devastated. Onslaught was gone. Really gone. The Combaticons held together awhile after that, Blast Off leading them as SubCommander, but eventually they drifted apart without Onslaught's brillaint leadership. Blast Off is no dummy but he doesn't have the tactician's eye, charisma, or ability to herd cats the way his leader did. Blast Off had kept fighting a little while longer, but his spark wasn't in it. Had it ever really been, besides serving by Onslaught's side as a Combaticon? There had come a time he HAD laid down his weapon. He was done with this. It was pointless. He simply shook his head, and rocketed away- far away, away from this planet of death. Yet now, much later, a purple and brown space shuttle soars over the skies of Cybertron once more..... If Blast Off needed a sign that it was over, he found it. Polyhex and Iacon were both just turned into rust dust, as he scanned the planet. His optics pick out tiny figures on the surface, wearing spiked gear and with square blocky frames. Junks. And given their penchant for weaponry, they were probably savages of a kind. A few malms away, there lies the once great and terrible Trypticon, splayed out on his belly, with a massive sword buried into his back, held by an equally gigantic Starscream, whom had collapsed atop Trypticon. There was a stillness to the planet. And then there was noise. <<<< Daily Cybex Forge Report: There is still.......ONE.......protoform awaiting frame construction. There is still....ONE......pr.zzzzzzzzz >>>>> Some... long dormant forge had just created new life... HA! Ok, maybe as a Decepticon, Blast Off should feel more sorry upon spotting Starscream's rusting corpse, but.... besides some genuine bafflement over how the Seeker got that big... HA. Good to see he's not ruler of Cybertron or anything. Jerk. (Though, perhaps, there's just a /tiny/ little twinge of... something, seeing how Starscream has such a history with the Combaticons...) ANYWAY. It's strange, though, and sad to see the once magnificent planet reduced to such scrabbling waste. Blast Off almost begins to wonder if he wasting his time coming when he picks up the signal. What's this? There IS life still here, Cybertronian life? And... protoform? How is that even possible? The shuttle veers towards the source of the radio transmission to investigate. It takes Blast Off a little time to track down the message. Apparently the positioning system for the area is messed up for air travel. That figures. As Blast Off clears the area, there's a clearing in the dust and scrap, a platform, and an open door. More importantly is the form lying before the door, sprawled forward onto his stomach. The sheen of metal is all pale, the color having faded. Judging from the blocky shape, and that inimitable pepper box launcher on the shoulder, Blast Off has a guess as to who the figure was. Perhaps of equal interest is the fact that there is actual light inside the door leading downward... Blast Off lands and transforms, making his way cautiously across the platform and pausing when he reaches the figure. The Combaticon nudges it with his foot, frowning under his faceplate. Soundwave? Even Soundwave is dead? He is again glad he left all this death and destruction. But the light catches his optics, and the ex(?) Combaticon's violet gaze drifts to the door. Hmm. Taking his rifle from subspace, he makes his way inside- carefully. The factory inside is small and cramped. The Cybex Forge was never a large forge, not like the renowned Assemblae Cybertronia of course, where countless millions were forged in the earliest ages. The pathways inside are shadowed heavily, pipes hang out of socket, harnesses meant to pick up new protoforms and move them hang as well, almost as if a veritable forest. Blast Off finds within the sixty rows of hangers, the one that had recently been used, still hanging from a manufacturing line. Before you is the back of the habitation slab, still up at an angle, that the protoform was deposited into. As those old 'clearing' instincts trickle back into Blast Off's processor, he raises and sweeps his weapon to find the slab was bare. A console nearby still has a bit of energy, its lights low, but declaring 'incomplete cycle' for the protoform. Which means that the new life on Cybertron hasn't been fully formatted. Which means it's vulnerable. And with that comes another thought. If this was a new computational matrice, a new cognitive system in this protoform, why that could be used to jumpstart a whole new generation of Cybertronians if one wanted....well, sure the protoform'd surely die during the dissective process, but what price was that? So... no protoform. Blast Off frowns, searching the area but not finding much. Well except the possibility of an elite space fleet, perhaps commanded by Blast Off himself.... though it seems he needs the protoform to make that a reality. Hmm. Then again, the protoform might die if he tried and.... also hmmm. The shuttle frowns again, thinking. He searches for any other clues and information he might be able to utilize... while remaining cautious. Soundwave's corpse wasn't that old. The console's weak power levels give out when Blast Off accesses the camera system for the place, but he is saavy enough, at least, to recover the thumbdrive that the last dozen cycles would be stored on. Now it came down to having a proper place that had the power for the job so he could see what had become of the protoform. That was when the rumbling outside started. It was a gravelly sound that seemed to come from multiple directions, a heavy weighty sound that shook the dust from the factory's roof. Blast Off's mind thinks back to the sounds he's long heard in the past, and remembers a time that Blitzwing, in tank mode, was kicking up dust something fierce, right into the shuttleformer's windshield....it was probably intentional, but that was an eon or three ago. Blast Off peers down at the thumbdrive in his hand, wondering where he's going to find something with the power he needs. He doesn't have long to wonder, though, as that rumbling begins. The shuttleformer looks up and back towards the doorway. Blitzwing?! Or... well, something that sounds like him. He hasn't seen THAT blowhard in a very long time. He's not sure he wants to NOW but.... he is curious. He takes one last look around, then makes his way back up to the doorway carefully, gun out. The sound of multiple engines cue Blast Off to the fact that he's outnumbered. There's a voice or two in the rumble of the engines. Those things are pretty loud, like, not energon-driven engines. It sounds like that petro-tech that lesser civilizations used, like that one little blue planet that everyone fought over six eons ago. As Blast Off steps near the door, he catches a hint of gun metal grey, and a tread at first. Daring to learn more, he steps into the shadows near the door, and clings to the wall. Several tanks of that color scheme idle just outside...and there he sees someone he may never have wanted to see again... AU-Megatron stands there, his foot up on the back of one of the tanks. He wears a tattered remnant of a cloak over one shoulder, his frame dented, but unbroken. To his side stands a mini-Cybertronian, painted in dark grey and black. Simultaneously, all the tanks stop their idling motors as the two speak. The mysterious small figure is first, "...undoubtably him. Soundwave has fallen. We'll load him up like the others." Megatron hops down from his position, the Warlord still holding considerable might and weight even here at the end. "This....offends me. First, we speak of prophecy...and now, Soundwave falls." He steps out of view. "Soundwave...ever the most loyal friend I could have asked for." There's a pause. "Why?" "Why did this have to happen, Huffer?" The black and grey minibot responds, "Because this world is a horrible place..." Seeing Megatron sends a little thrill through Blast Off's struts. He's not sure if it's fear, or relief, or some weird mix of the two. It... is probably mostly fear though. Would he be considered a traitor or deserter? Would Megatron think HE killed Soundwave? It is surprising to see Huffer here, working with the Decepticons... but maybe factions don't mean much in this wasteland. Still- for now, Blast Off does his sniper thing- watching and waiting in the shadows, obtaining information. Megatron reenters the view, as he places Soundwave's body on one of the tanks. He stares down at the corpse for several moments as Huffer puts together a flechette rifle of some sort. He actually locks it, and chambers the first round, then holds it out without even looking. Megatron eventually raises his head, and turns back towards the factory. Megatron takes the rifle, about the same size and make of the mighty Pathblaster Optimus carried, though ballistic in nature. He pauses, just standing there. After a few moments, he speaks again, "Where is my ascenscion, Huffer? Where is it?" Huffer loads a smaller pistol, one his size, and responds flatly, "You need the protoform first, Sir. First it, then your other thing." "Godhood." Megatron says, as if his processor was jogged. He clenches a hand in emphasis. "Too many...mistakes. Too many..." He steps forward towards the door, then stops again, "What was hi..." Before he can finish, Huffer interrupts, "Optimus Prime, Sir." "Optimus Prime. Yes. Too many. Mistakes." The two move forward, right towards Blast Off's position inside... So, they're looking for the protoform, too. Hmm. Blast Off listens to this, sensing that something is definitely OFF regarding Megatron. Godhood? Ascension? Not remembering Optimus Prime's name? What the frag? Yes, Blast Off is glad he left when he did. Having no desire to atke on the Decepticon leader (is he still a Con? He looks at Meg's chest...) ...he leans even closer to the wall, fuel pump beginning to race some as he hopes not to be seen or heard..... Huffer, or perhaps Dark Huffer, enters first. He's a bit casual about clearing the area, just giving the area a brief once over, he shrugs then enters. "Come along, your Deificic-ness..." Megatron humphs and stands in the doorway, casting a long, long shadow down. He steps into the factory, slowly walking down the steps. "The voice...came from here?" He questions, suspiciously. "Have you lied to me, Huffer?" He raises his cannon. Huffer doesn't seem remarkably put out by the gesture. "Yes...and the protoform appears to be missing." There's actually remarkably little anger in Megatron's voice, he sounds...old. "I'm tired....Huffer. I'm tired of mere survival." Huffer nods once, as he checks the same console you were at. "We all are." "I want to ascend. To start fresh finally." Huffer says placating, "And you will, once we find the protoform....Hmmm, whomever killed Soundwave also wiped the security cameras." Megatron looks up, wistfully at all the metal arms that would hold more. Seeing motion, he raises his ballistic rifle and just opens fire! Huffer rushes forward, his hands up, "Sir, Stop! Stop firing!" Megatron pushes him back, "Fouler! Besieger! Fall!", his words hoarse as the weapon fires. >> AU-Megatron strikes Blast Off with Ballistic . << Frag. FRAG!!! Megatron spots him and just starts shooting before BLast Off can say or do anything. Up among the pipes, he can't quite manage any kind of quick escape- and one of those powerful blasts hits him square center. "Aiiigh!" The shuttleformer falls from his spot, smoke trailing from the open wound in his torso. He lands with a *thud* on his front, metal clanging and smoke still eminating as he curls up in pain. But one black hand shoots up in a *stop* gesture. He doesn't try shooting back. "Megatron! Wait! It's me, Blast Off! I am one of *yours*!" And for several moments, Megatron is the Slagmaker of old, full of fury. Several of the pipes and arms just shatter and fall as his ballistics rattle Blast Off. Huffer pushes his gun down, which sprays more rounds until the clip empties, leaving it clicking. Again, Megatron shoves Huffer away, sending the minibot sprawling with a thud. Contempt fills his voice, "I know who you are." Megatron steps forward, his cape fluttering. Closer to the Warlord now, Blast Off can see the Decepticon faction emblem still upon him. "You sided with Starscream. He....used you." Megatron comes right up before you, and raises the empty weapon. "Brine...Soft....." He pauses again, as Huffer regains his feet. "Blast Off..sir.." With satisfaction, Megatron repeats your name. "Blast Off....well, well, well. You have ONE moment left in your dying spark, Blast Off...Use it to tell me where my protoform has gone." GAME: Blast Off PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Above Average difficulty. Blast Off thinks back to his mercenary days, and that advice that Onslaught gave him. Onsy was staring down the cannon, and was as calm and collected as always. And he laid out his case to Megatron. Later, he laughed it off as he would. "He can't kill you if he /needs/ you. It'll infuriate him even worse, but he'll find another target for his rage. That's the trick. Always be /vital/ to what the employer wants, and make sure he knows it." Blast Off is no coward... but neither is he the bravest mech, wither. He stares up at Megatron and his weaponry and just wants to *live* through this encounter somehow. "I did not CHOOSE to side with Starscream, he forced us to. We've been loyal to you ever since." As far as he knows, at least. His hand remains lifted in the air, palm out. "I don't *know*, Megatron, I just got here. But I DO know this...." His palm curls, raising an index finger to the sky, "... how many spaceships do you have? How many sharpshooters with my skill level? I doubt you have many like me. And I'm still YOURS. I am no Autobot, never have been. You want a protoform? I can fly, I can cover ground quickly." He pauses a moment as pain shoots through his leaking body, purple energon pooling around him as he tries to get into a sitting position. "If Autobots... or Junkions, or whatever... still guard this protoform, you'll need fast, efficient, skilled shooters to engage in combat... nothing like a *Combaticon* for that job. Is Astrotrain still here? If not, who can get you into orbit and beyond, send radio communications across the planet? Who can lay waste to entire settlements from *space*? I doubt there are many left capable of such things. You NEED me, Megatron, and here I AM. Ready to SERVE you." The weapon may be empty, but either he doesn't realize it or care. The muzzle of that rifle presses right up against Blast's chin as he states his case. "Are you?" Megatron says slowly. From behind him, Blast hears, "Yes. Dear Primus yes, it would be somebody else to talk to." Huffer makes an exaggerated relieved pose. "He's right, you need eyes on high to find this thing, don't shoot him." Megatron doesn't seem so convinced. He gives Blast a skeptical look, until his optics light upon Blast's autobrand. Several more moments pass, and then without any resolution, he just turns to leave. "I want that protoform!" Huffer remains behind for a moment, looking rather pleased. "Yeah, you should just run the moment he turns his back. Like....fast." He nods sagely, "Just go. Don't even pretend to stay." With that, Huffer follows along after Megatron. Blast Off stares up at Death itself.... and then watches as it passes him on by. There's a sigh of relief, one he does his best to keep quiet. His hand comes close, fingers brushing the Decepticon badge he still wears, the one that may have saved his life. He'd kept it all these years, more out of snetimental value regarding his old unit than anything else. When Huffer speaks, Blast Off looks at him quizzically, but nods. Megatron does not seem particularly... stable at the moment. The shuttle works to get to his feet, watching Megatron heading off. Really, right now? His first goal is to find medical supplies. He looks around the room, would this place have any? If he can find some way to get repaired he can fly again and maybe figure out just what the smelt is going on.